More Hockey Ficlets
Patrick was about to start his movie when there was a sudden knock on his door. He looked at it curiously before going to answer it, because he wasn’t expecting any visitors. He was nevertheless unsurprised to find Jonny standing outside his door, looking like a drowned rat and shivering a little.
“What happened to you?” he asked, opening his door wider and letting Jonny in. Jonny grimaced through chattering teeth.
“Went for a run,” he explained. “It was nice when I left but it started pouring about halfway through, and your place was closer.”
“Nice,” Patrick said, surveying his captain critically. “You’re a pathetic specimen, you know that?” he said fondly, and Jonny rolled his eyes. Patrick waved a hand at him. “Go on, go take a shower. I’ll put your wet things in the dryer, see if I have anything you can wear while you wait.”
“Thanks,” Jonny said, already on his way to Patrick’s guest bathroom. Patrick shook his head and went to go dig through his closet for clothes.
Thirty minutes later, Jonny was fresh out of the shower and wearing a pair of his old sweats that Patrick had round stashed in his closet and one of Patrick’s Blackhawks t-shirts. He was pretty sure that the sweats dated back to their rookie year, because they were barely containing him now. Patrick’s eyes kept catching on the way the sweats strained across Jonny’s thighs - he’d gotten a lot bigger, and it was impressive - and the way his shirt was just a little bit too big on Jonny. He was understandably distracted, which was probably why Jonny was winning the argument about what they were going to watch.
“Fuck you,” he said, belatedly. “It’s my apartment and you invited yourself over, loser. You can suck it up and watch The Amazing Spider-Man.”
“I don’t understand why you like all those stupid superhero movies. And didn’t they just make a Spiderman movie not that long ago?”
“Yeah, but this one is so much better. The guy who plays Peter Parker isn’t a total tool, for one. And superhero movies are awesome!”
“You only like it because it has lots of explosions in it.”
Patrick frowned at him. “Stop being a superior douchebag, you like movies with explosions in them too. Now give me back the remote.”
“Make me,” Jonny said, which obviously meant Patrick needed to jump him and wrestle the remote away from him. The only problem with this course of action was that Jonny had five inches and 30 pounds on him, so in short order Patrick found himself pinned to the couch by a triumphant Jonathan Toews.
“I win,” he said, and Patrick made a face at him.
“You cheated,” he accused. Jonny didn’t seem bothered, just stared down at him smugly. Patrick was suddenly aware that Jonny was straddling his lap, and that his sweats looked like they were painted on and left nothing to the imagination. And also Jonny was hard.
Patrick swallowed hard, gaze fixed on Jonny’s massive thighs spread across his lap and the bulge of his cock. He was distantly aware that he was hard, too, that Jonny had to be able to feel it and wasn’t moving away, was staying right where he was. “Jonny,” he said, or tried to say. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Jonny, what-“
Jonny didn’t want to talk, it seemed, because he leaned down and kissed Patrick to shut him up. Patrick let out a noise that definitely wasn’t a whimper and surged up into the kiss, trying to put his hands everywhere all at once. Jonny laughed into his mouth and drew away to give him a smug grin. Patrick fisted his hands in Jonny’s (Patrick’s) shirt and narrowed his eyes at him.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Jonny said, still grinning. “Except maybe your bed. Your crappy sofa is digging into my knees.”
“You bought the exact same crappy sofa, what are you talking about,” Patrick said, mouth on autopilot because his brain had shorted out a little at the thought of Jonny in his bed. It wasn’t a new thought by any stretch of the imagination, but it also wasn’t anything that he’d thought had a chance in hell of actually happening. “What am I talking about, never mind, c’mon,” and he tried to shove Jonny off of him and get up to go to the bedroom. It only worked because Jonny let it, and his smug grin widened. Patrick wondered a little despairingly why he was so attracted to such a tremendous asshole.
They made it into Patrick’s bedroom before his brain finally came back online. “What are we doing, Jonny, seriously?” he asked, pausing in the act of pulling off his shirt.
“Having sex,” Jonny said, matter-of-factly, pulling off his own shirt and kicking off his pants. “Unless you’d rather not,” he added, flopping down on Patrick’s bed. Patrick wasn’t stupid enough to say anything to that, choosing instead to finish stripping out of his shirt and pants and tackle Jonny back onto the bed.
“Oof,” Jonny said, clearly not expecting it. Patrick grinned down at him from where he was straddling Jonny’s lap in a reversal of their earlier positions. He bent down to kiss Jonny before either of them could say anything else, tracing the cut of Jonny’s abs with the hand that wasn’t reaching for Jonny’s dick. Jonny thrust his hips up into the pressure, hissing with pleasure and moving to mouth at Patrick’s neck. Patrick groaned and tipped his head back to give him better access. Jonny found the spot behind his ear that made him buck his hips helplessly and used it to his advantage, reaching up and pulling Patrick’s boxers down so that he could get a hand on Patrick’s dick.
Jonny’s had was too dry, though, so Patrick scrambled off his lap and over to his bedside table. He pulled out some lube and turned back to Jonny, who had taken to opportunity to pull off his own underwear. Patrick eyed Jonny’s dick with satisfaction - not that he hadn’t seen it before, but he hadn’t seen it before in this context, and it was kind of gratifying. “How d’you want to do this?” he asked as he crawled back across the bed.
“Like this,” Jonny said, pulling Patrick back into his lap and holding out his hand for the lube. Patrick gave it to him and Jonny flipped it open and poured some into his hand before reaching for both of their dicks and taking them in hand. Patrick’s eyes nearly crossed with pleasure - it had been a while since he’d gotten any action that wasn’t from his own hand, and it was Jonny. He’d had a fruitless crush on Jonny since their rookie year, and watching him work both their cocks with one hand, a look of intense concentration on his face, was ridiculously hot. He grabbed onto Jonny’s shoulders and moaned as he thrust into his grip. Jonny let out a choked sound and Patrick realized that his fingernails were digging into Jonny’s back. He tried to ease up on his grip, but Jonny made a frustrated sound and Patrick grinned.
“Oh, you like that,” he said, digging in with his fingernails again.
“Stop trying to be sexy, Kaner,” Jonny said, panting a little. “It’s not working.”
“I’d have to disagree,” Patrick said, smirking. “You’re here, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, because clearly something’s wrong with me,” Jonny said. Patrick dug his fingernails in harder as punishment and Jonny made a helpless sound and rolled them over so that Patrick was underneath him. Patrick gave him a wild grin and reached down to get a good handful of Jonny’s ass.
“Oh, yeah,” he said, moaning exaggeratedly. “Give it to me.”
“Oh my god, shut up,” Jonny said, reaching out with his free hand to put it over Patrick’s mouth. “I can’t believe I’m having sex with someone as ridiculous as you.”
Patrick thrust up into Jonny’s fist and waggled his eyebrows. Jonny responded by tightening his hold on both of them and speeding up his hand, adding a twisting motion into the mix. As far as distraction techniques went, it was a good one. Patrick’s eyes rolled back into his head and he let out a heartfelt groan at how good it felt, which was muffled by Jonny’s hand over his mouth.
“Shit,” Jonny said, eyes wide, and Patrick felt his dick jerk. He rolled his eyes - of course Jonny got off on shutting him up. He made a few more muffled sounds and Jonny came with what sounded like a sob, never stopping his hand. It only took a few more strokes before Patrick followed - he’d always gotten off on making his partners feel good.
After, Jonny collapsed on top of him and laid there until Patrick started kicking at him. “Get up, asshole, we need to get cleaned up before we stick together.” Jonny muttered something that didn’t sound complimentary but he rolled off and blinked at Patrick stupidly for a second before heading into the bathroom for a washcloth.
“Not that I’m complaining,” Patrick said after they’d finished cleaning up and had gotten back into bed, “but where did that come from?”
“I got tired of you missing the point,” Jonny said, yawning and punching at his pillow to get it into the right shape. “I’ve been trying to get you to do something for ages now.”
“You have not. I think I would have noticed,” Patrick said, flopping face first into his pillow. Jonny snorted.
“C’mon, Patrick, I went running in the rain and showed up at your place. I wore really tight pants and your shirt. And I still had to basically jump you before you figured it out.”
“Wait, you went running in the rain on purpose?” Patrick demanded, pulling his face out of the pillow and giving Jonny an incredulous look. He was ignoring the rest of what Jonny had said because it was embarrassing and he didn’t want to talk about it. “You total freakjob, what if you get sick?”
“I won’t,” Jonny said confidently, and then he sneezed. He crossed his eyes and stared at his nose as though it had betrayed him, and Patrick rolled his eyes so hard he thought he might strain something.
“Oh my god, you moron,” he said, shoving Jonny out of bed. “Go take some vitamins or something, then come back here and we can nap.”
“Whatever,” Jonny said grumpily before getting up and wandering out of the bedroom in search of vitamins. Patrick laid back down and hid his grin in his pillow. Yeah, this was going to be awesome.
1. Sharpy
Brandon wasn’t sure what Sharpy was doing with the green dye in the locker room, and he didn’t want to know. He walked into the locker room, saw Sharpy freeze, saw what he had in his hand, and turned around and walked right back out without saying anything.
(It turned out later that Sharpy had been putting the green dye in Kaner’s shampoo as a St. Patrick’s Day joke. The whole team laughed themselves sick when he stalked out of the shower with green hair, and Kaner didn’t speak to Sharpy for a whole two days.)
2. Seabs and Duncs
Brandon had originally stopped by Seabs’ room in order to borrow a phone charger, since his was broken and he and Seabs had the same phone. The door to Seabs’ room was open, so Brandon stuck his head in to see if Seabs had left the phone charger out or something.
Seabs and Duncs were sitting on the bed, staring at each other, in silence. Brandon shut the door as quietly as he could and backed away quickly. No way was he getting involved in that. He could borrow a phone charger from Tazer.
3. Kaner and Tazer
Brandon was in the equipment room getting a new stick when he heard a thumping sound from the maintenance closet. He looked at it curiously, because he hadn’t seen anyone go in there, and then heard the thumping sound again. He walked over and opened the door cautiously, thinking that someone must have locked themselves inside.
Inside the closet, Tazer had Kaner shoved up against one of the walls, and it looked like they were too distracted to have noticed the door opening. Brandon thanked God for small favors as he closed the closet door again, wincing, and wondered if someone had managed to invent brain bleach yet.
4. Stalberg
Brandon had left his sweatshirt in the locker room, so he jogged back to go get it. As he entered the locker room, he noticed Stalberg standing in front of a mirror, messing with his hair. Their eyes met in the mirror, and Stalberg froze.
Brandon grabbed his sweatshirt and left without saying anything, confused. Stalberg had looked guilty, like he’d been caught doing something weird. Brandon put it firmly out of his mind - if there was one thing he’d learned over his time with the Blackhawks, it was to not ask questions unless you were really sure you wanted the answers.
5. Sharpy Again
Brandon was running a little early for practice one morning - like, almost 45 minutes - because he’d been woken up by the sound of construction on his street and hadn’t been able to get back to sleep. He was surprised to see that Sharpy was already in the locker room when he got there, and then he noticed that Sharpy was holding a pair of scissors and a roll of duct tape and wearing an odd expression. He backed out of the room without saying a word.
(This time it turned out that Sharpy had been busily engaged in putting up pictures of Tazer’s most recent ridiculous photoshoot in his and Kaner’s stalls. Tazer turned several shades of red not usually found in nature while Kaner shifted uneasily from foot to foot and looked weirdly aroused by the whole thing.)
+1. Shawzy and Bollig
Brandon wasn’t expecting to see anyone when he came back to the hotel room after dinner - Shawzy had muttered something vague about plans when he’d asked, so he’d thought he was going to have the room to himself. He was very surprised, then, when he opened the door to find Shawzy on his knees deep throating Bollig. He froze just inside the door, and Bollig, wide-eyed, hit Shawzy on the shoulder to make him get off.
“Oh, hey, man,” Shawzy said, and his voice sounded wrecked but other than that he gave no indication that Brandon had stumbled across anything out of the ordinary. “Didn’t expect you to get back so soon.”
“Didn’t feel like going out,” Brandon managed, feeling his face turn red. He couldn’t stop staring.
“Cool, us neither. Want to join us?” The words were uttered casually, and Bollig thumped Shawzy on the shoulder as Brandon sputtered incoherently. Shawzy frowned up at him. “What was that for?”
“You didn’t even ask me, dickhead!” Bollig hissed.
“Yeah, but we’ve talked about it before,” Shawzy said. Brandon felt like he was about to faint with mortification, but also curious. They’d talked about it before?
“That was theoretical,” Bollig said, but his eyes slid over and he gave Brandon a measuring look.
“So you don’t want to,” Shawzy asked, like he was just making sure. Bollig gave him an irritated look.
“Of course I want to, but you don’t just spring it on someone like that,” he said. He turned to Brandon. “Sorry about him, we’re working on manners. It’s a work in progress,” he sighed.
“So do you want to?” Shawzy asked, giving Brandon a blatant once over. Brandon felt himself flush even brighter, but he turned and slid the deadbolt home before turning back to the two of them and shrugging.
“Why not?”
“What happened to you?” he asked, opening his door wider and letting Jonny in. Jonny grimaced through chattering teeth.
“Went for a run,” he explained. “It was nice when I left but it started pouring about halfway through, and your place was closer.”
“Nice,” Patrick said, surveying his captain critically. “You’re a pathetic specimen, you know that?” he said fondly, and Jonny rolled his eyes. Patrick waved a hand at him. “Go on, go take a shower. I’ll put your wet things in the dryer, see if I have anything you can wear while you wait.”
“Thanks,” Jonny said, already on his way to Patrick’s guest bathroom. Patrick shook his head and went to go dig through his closet for clothes.
Thirty minutes later, Jonny was fresh out of the shower and wearing a pair of his old sweats that Patrick had round stashed in his closet and one of Patrick’s Blackhawks t-shirts. He was pretty sure that the sweats dated back to their rookie year, because they were barely containing him now. Patrick’s eyes kept catching on the way the sweats strained across Jonny’s thighs - he’d gotten a lot bigger, and it was impressive - and the way his shirt was just a little bit too big on Jonny. He was understandably distracted, which was probably why Jonny was winning the argument about what they were going to watch.
“Fuck you,” he said, belatedly. “It’s my apartment and you invited yourself over, loser. You can suck it up and watch The Amazing Spider-Man.”
“I don’t understand why you like all those stupid superhero movies. And didn’t they just make a Spiderman movie not that long ago?”
“Yeah, but this one is so much better. The guy who plays Peter Parker isn’t a total tool, for one. And superhero movies are awesome!”
“You only like it because it has lots of explosions in it.”
Patrick frowned at him. “Stop being a superior douchebag, you like movies with explosions in them too. Now give me back the remote.”
“Make me,” Jonny said, which obviously meant Patrick needed to jump him and wrestle the remote away from him. The only problem with this course of action was that Jonny had five inches and 30 pounds on him, so in short order Patrick found himself pinned to the couch by a triumphant Jonathan Toews.
“I win,” he said, and Patrick made a face at him.
“You cheated,” he accused. Jonny didn’t seem bothered, just stared down at him smugly. Patrick was suddenly aware that Jonny was straddling his lap, and that his sweats looked like they were painted on and left nothing to the imagination. And also Jonny was hard.
Patrick swallowed hard, gaze fixed on Jonny’s massive thighs spread across his lap and the bulge of his cock. He was distantly aware that he was hard, too, that Jonny had to be able to feel it and wasn’t moving away, was staying right where he was. “Jonny,” he said, or tried to say. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Jonny, what-“
Jonny didn’t want to talk, it seemed, because he leaned down and kissed Patrick to shut him up. Patrick let out a noise that definitely wasn’t a whimper and surged up into the kiss, trying to put his hands everywhere all at once. Jonny laughed into his mouth and drew away to give him a smug grin. Patrick fisted his hands in Jonny’s (Patrick’s) shirt and narrowed his eyes at him.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Jonny said, still grinning. “Except maybe your bed. Your crappy sofa is digging into my knees.”
“You bought the exact same crappy sofa, what are you talking about,” Patrick said, mouth on autopilot because his brain had shorted out a little at the thought of Jonny in his bed. It wasn’t a new thought by any stretch of the imagination, but it also wasn’t anything that he’d thought had a chance in hell of actually happening. “What am I talking about, never mind, c’mon,” and he tried to shove Jonny off of him and get up to go to the bedroom. It only worked because Jonny let it, and his smug grin widened. Patrick wondered a little despairingly why he was so attracted to such a tremendous asshole.
They made it into Patrick’s bedroom before his brain finally came back online. “What are we doing, Jonny, seriously?” he asked, pausing in the act of pulling off his shirt.
“Having sex,” Jonny said, matter-of-factly, pulling off his own shirt and kicking off his pants. “Unless you’d rather not,” he added, flopping down on Patrick’s bed. Patrick wasn’t stupid enough to say anything to that, choosing instead to finish stripping out of his shirt and pants and tackle Jonny back onto the bed.
“Oof,” Jonny said, clearly not expecting it. Patrick grinned down at him from where he was straddling Jonny’s lap in a reversal of their earlier positions. He bent down to kiss Jonny before either of them could say anything else, tracing the cut of Jonny’s abs with the hand that wasn’t reaching for Jonny’s dick. Jonny thrust his hips up into the pressure, hissing with pleasure and moving to mouth at Patrick’s neck. Patrick groaned and tipped his head back to give him better access. Jonny found the spot behind his ear that made him buck his hips helplessly and used it to his advantage, reaching up and pulling Patrick’s boxers down so that he could get a hand on Patrick’s dick.
Jonny’s had was too dry, though, so Patrick scrambled off his lap and over to his bedside table. He pulled out some lube and turned back to Jonny, who had taken to opportunity to pull off his own underwear. Patrick eyed Jonny’s dick with satisfaction - not that he hadn’t seen it before, but he hadn’t seen it before in this context, and it was kind of gratifying. “How d’you want to do this?” he asked as he crawled back across the bed.
“Like this,” Jonny said, pulling Patrick back into his lap and holding out his hand for the lube. Patrick gave it to him and Jonny flipped it open and poured some into his hand before reaching for both of their dicks and taking them in hand. Patrick’s eyes nearly crossed with pleasure - it had been a while since he’d gotten any action that wasn’t from his own hand, and it was Jonny. He’d had a fruitless crush on Jonny since their rookie year, and watching him work both their cocks with one hand, a look of intense concentration on his face, was ridiculously hot. He grabbed onto Jonny’s shoulders and moaned as he thrust into his grip. Jonny let out a choked sound and Patrick realized that his fingernails were digging into Jonny’s back. He tried to ease up on his grip, but Jonny made a frustrated sound and Patrick grinned.
“Oh, you like that,” he said, digging in with his fingernails again.
“Stop trying to be sexy, Kaner,” Jonny said, panting a little. “It’s not working.”
“I’d have to disagree,” Patrick said, smirking. “You’re here, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, because clearly something’s wrong with me,” Jonny said. Patrick dug his fingernails in harder as punishment and Jonny made a helpless sound and rolled them over so that Patrick was underneath him. Patrick gave him a wild grin and reached down to get a good handful of Jonny’s ass.
“Oh, yeah,” he said, moaning exaggeratedly. “Give it to me.”
“Oh my god, shut up,” Jonny said, reaching out with his free hand to put it over Patrick’s mouth. “I can’t believe I’m having sex with someone as ridiculous as you.”
Patrick thrust up into Jonny’s fist and waggled his eyebrows. Jonny responded by tightening his hold on both of them and speeding up his hand, adding a twisting motion into the mix. As far as distraction techniques went, it was a good one. Patrick’s eyes rolled back into his head and he let out a heartfelt groan at how good it felt, which was muffled by Jonny’s hand over his mouth.
“Shit,” Jonny said, eyes wide, and Patrick felt his dick jerk. He rolled his eyes - of course Jonny got off on shutting him up. He made a few more muffled sounds and Jonny came with what sounded like a sob, never stopping his hand. It only took a few more strokes before Patrick followed - he’d always gotten off on making his partners feel good.
After, Jonny collapsed on top of him and laid there until Patrick started kicking at him. “Get up, asshole, we need to get cleaned up before we stick together.” Jonny muttered something that didn’t sound complimentary but he rolled off and blinked at Patrick stupidly for a second before heading into the bathroom for a washcloth.
“Not that I’m complaining,” Patrick said after they’d finished cleaning up and had gotten back into bed, “but where did that come from?”
“I got tired of you missing the point,” Jonny said, yawning and punching at his pillow to get it into the right shape. “I’ve been trying to get you to do something for ages now.”
“You have not. I think I would have noticed,” Patrick said, flopping face first into his pillow. Jonny snorted.
“C’mon, Patrick, I went running in the rain and showed up at your place. I wore really tight pants and your shirt. And I still had to basically jump you before you figured it out.”
“Wait, you went running in the rain on purpose?” Patrick demanded, pulling his face out of the pillow and giving Jonny an incredulous look. He was ignoring the rest of what Jonny had said because it was embarrassing and he didn’t want to talk about it. “You total freakjob, what if you get sick?”
“I won’t,” Jonny said confidently, and then he sneezed. He crossed his eyes and stared at his nose as though it had betrayed him, and Patrick rolled his eyes so hard he thought he might strain something.
“Oh my god, you moron,” he said, shoving Jonny out of bed. “Go take some vitamins or something, then come back here and we can nap.”
“Whatever,” Jonny said grumpily before getting up and wandering out of the bedroom in search of vitamins. Patrick laid back down and hid his grin in his pillow. Yeah, this was going to be awesome.
1. Sharpy
Brandon wasn’t sure what Sharpy was doing with the green dye in the locker room, and he didn’t want to know. He walked into the locker room, saw Sharpy freeze, saw what he had in his hand, and turned around and walked right back out without saying anything.
(It turned out later that Sharpy had been putting the green dye in Kaner’s shampoo as a St. Patrick’s Day joke. The whole team laughed themselves sick when he stalked out of the shower with green hair, and Kaner didn’t speak to Sharpy for a whole two days.)
2. Seabs and Duncs
Brandon had originally stopped by Seabs’ room in order to borrow a phone charger, since his was broken and he and Seabs had the same phone. The door to Seabs’ room was open, so Brandon stuck his head in to see if Seabs had left the phone charger out or something.
Seabs and Duncs were sitting on the bed, staring at each other, in silence. Brandon shut the door as quietly as he could and backed away quickly. No way was he getting involved in that. He could borrow a phone charger from Tazer.
3. Kaner and Tazer
Brandon was in the equipment room getting a new stick when he heard a thumping sound from the maintenance closet. He looked at it curiously, because he hadn’t seen anyone go in there, and then heard the thumping sound again. He walked over and opened the door cautiously, thinking that someone must have locked themselves inside.
Inside the closet, Tazer had Kaner shoved up against one of the walls, and it looked like they were too distracted to have noticed the door opening. Brandon thanked God for small favors as he closed the closet door again, wincing, and wondered if someone had managed to invent brain bleach yet.
4. Stalberg
Brandon had left his sweatshirt in the locker room, so he jogged back to go get it. As he entered the locker room, he noticed Stalberg standing in front of a mirror, messing with his hair. Their eyes met in the mirror, and Stalberg froze.
Brandon grabbed his sweatshirt and left without saying anything, confused. Stalberg had looked guilty, like he’d been caught doing something weird. Brandon put it firmly out of his mind - if there was one thing he’d learned over his time with the Blackhawks, it was to not ask questions unless you were really sure you wanted the answers.
5. Sharpy Again
Brandon was running a little early for practice one morning - like, almost 45 minutes - because he’d been woken up by the sound of construction on his street and hadn’t been able to get back to sleep. He was surprised to see that Sharpy was already in the locker room when he got there, and then he noticed that Sharpy was holding a pair of scissors and a roll of duct tape and wearing an odd expression. He backed out of the room without saying a word.
(This time it turned out that Sharpy had been busily engaged in putting up pictures of Tazer’s most recent ridiculous photoshoot in his and Kaner’s stalls. Tazer turned several shades of red not usually found in nature while Kaner shifted uneasily from foot to foot and looked weirdly aroused by the whole thing.)
+1. Shawzy and Bollig
Brandon wasn’t expecting to see anyone when he came back to the hotel room after dinner - Shawzy had muttered something vague about plans when he’d asked, so he’d thought he was going to have the room to himself. He was very surprised, then, when he opened the door to find Shawzy on his knees deep throating Bollig. He froze just inside the door, and Bollig, wide-eyed, hit Shawzy on the shoulder to make him get off.
“Oh, hey, man,” Shawzy said, and his voice sounded wrecked but other than that he gave no indication that Brandon had stumbled across anything out of the ordinary. “Didn’t expect you to get back so soon.”
“Didn’t feel like going out,” Brandon managed, feeling his face turn red. He couldn’t stop staring.
“Cool, us neither. Want to join us?” The words were uttered casually, and Bollig thumped Shawzy on the shoulder as Brandon sputtered incoherently. Shawzy frowned up at him. “What was that for?”
“You didn’t even ask me, dickhead!” Bollig hissed.
“Yeah, but we’ve talked about it before,” Shawzy said. Brandon felt like he was about to faint with mortification, but also curious. They’d talked about it before?
“That was theoretical,” Bollig said, but his eyes slid over and he gave Brandon a measuring look.
“So you don’t want to,” Shawzy asked, like he was just making sure. Bollig gave him an irritated look.
“Of course I want to, but you don’t just spring it on someone like that,” he said. He turned to Brandon. “Sorry about him, we’re working on manners. It’s a work in progress,” he sighed.
“So do you want to?” Shawzy asked, giving Brandon a blatant once over. Brandon felt himself flush even brighter, but he turned and slid the deadbolt home before turning back to the two of them and shrugging.
“Why not?”